


Two (Snow-Covered) Turtle Doves

by thepopeisdope



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepopeisdope/pseuds/thepopeisdope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas build a snowman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two (Snow-Covered) Turtle Doves

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the ever-wonderful [Arianna](http://ariwillowtwist.tumblr.com/).

The first winter after Cas became human, it didn’t snow. He wanted it to, however—more than Dean ever would have expected. The former angel's enthusiasm for cold weather reached a point bordering on absurd, and he got in the habit of checking the local weather report every day in hopes of seeing a flurry in the forecast. 

But the season came and went, and Lebanon, Kansas didn't see a single snowflake. It was a warm year, the meteorologists all said. It happens.

That didn't stop Cas from pouting, of course, but Dean thought his friend's perpetual frown over _the weather_ ,of all things, was too adorable to really hate.

The final dregs of that warm winter turned into spring, then summer, and then fall faster than Dean could comprehend. It was a busy year—they hunted their fair share of monsters, broke no less than three bones, made new friends, and kept in touch with old ones. It was a whirlwind, but typical. 

What wasn't typical, though, was the relationship that took full form between Dean and Cas. 

It had started in the latter part of the summer with an unplanned confession of love under the stars, and from there, they were lost in each other. Cas even moved his things out of his own room in the bunker and into Dean's, officially making it _theirs_.

So when the time finally comes to break the news to Cas one extra-cold December morning, Dean knows exactly where to find him.

Buried beneath a literal mountain of blankets, in the dead-center of their bed. As per usual. 

Dean is quiet as he creeps in, closing the door softly behind him. He deposits the two mugs of hot coffee he brought in on one of the nightstands, then slides beneath the covers next to the ex-angel. His fingers and toes are frigid from his walk through the bunker's cold hallways, and so he sets about trying to warm them up against Cas' sleep-warm body. 

" _Dean_ ," Cas whines, trying—and failing—to wiggle away from the frozen appendages. He glares at his boyfriend through slit eyes. "Let me sleep."

"No can do," Dean replies cheerily. He drops a kiss to the top of Cas' nose, his grin widening at the annoyed grunt it earns him. "Don't you want to know what happened?"

All of Cas' protests stop, and he frowns at Dean. "What happened?"

"It snowed last night."

Cas sits upright, his pile of blankets falling away, forgotten. He grips Dean by the shoulders and asks, wide-eyed and pleading, "Did it really? How much?"

"About six inches," Dean replies. "More than enough to go out in, right?"

For a long moment, Cas just blinks at him. Then, in a flash, he presses a chaste kiss to Dean's lips and leaps from the bed. He's halfway dressed before Dean manages to slow him down, stopping him from buttoning his jeans into place with a placating hand. 

"Slow down, babe," he chuckles, "the snow isn't going anywhere. You're going to need more than jeans, anyway—it's freezing out there. And at least drink your coffee, we don't need you getting crabby later because you went without."

Dean's words seem slow to register in Cas' mind, but eventually he nods and moves to retrieve his coffee from the nightstand. It doesn't take him more than a few minutes to drain it in his excitement, but that delay is more than long enough for Dean to dig out what warm clothes they have.

Fifteen minutes later, they emerge from their room ready to brave the elements. They're both plenty layered against the cold, with insulated long johns beneath their jeans, double layers of socks in their boots, and hoodies and overcoats overtop their typical shirt arrangements—or two hoodies, in Cas' case. 

The last thing Dean wants is his Angel coming down with a cold, right? And if the guy has to look adorably overdressed to avoid that, then so be it. No harm done.

When he sees the two of them, Sam laughs. "Are you really doing this?"

"Absolutely," Dean says, at the same time that Cas replies, "You’re welcome to join us."

Surprisingly, Sam actually seems to consider that. Eventually he settles on, "Maybe later. Just go do your thing, alright?"

Cas doesn't need to be told twice. He slips his gloved hand into Dean's and pulls him up the stairs and out the bunker's front door into the winter landscape that waits beyond it. 

Cas gapes at the sight. "This... This is..."

Dean laughs. "Little overwhelmed there, Cas? It's what, beautiful? _Serene_ , maybe? How poetic you looking to get here?"

"We should build a snowman."

It's not the exchange of banter Dean was expecting, but he can hardly complain about the abrupt change in direction. He leads Cas up the hill to a flat patch of land over the bunker, where they immediately join forces in rolling the snow into the necessary shapes to create their snowman. 

It doesn't take long to make three large balls of snow, but after they're done, it quickly becomes apparent that their proportions are all wrong—the torso piece is almost the same size as the bottom, and the head is far too small to match either. Dean wants to fix it, but Cas insists it doesn't need to be changed. 

Dean stands back and looks it over with a critical eye. He can't help but laugh at how absurd it looks, and he asks Cas, "Are you sure? He looks... weird."

Cas nods. "I'm sure, Dean. He's perfect the way he is."

The statement is so earnest, so unmistakably _Cas_ , that Dean has to pull him in for a kiss. Cas smiles into it, and when they separate a moment later, he asks hopefully, "Does that mean you agree?"

"Yeah, Cas," Dean says with a grin, "I agree. Now we have to find some rocks and sticks for his face and arms—come on."

As it turns out, Cas has a knack for finding perfectly round stones, even when they're buried beneath several inches of snow. While he works to collect an acceptable number of them, Dean sets about finding two reasonably straight sticks to use for arms. He ends up wandering away from Cas and their snowman friend in his search, but it pays off in that he finds two on the ground and doesn't have to break any off of the trees. 

When Dean returns to the snowman, Cas is already halfway finished pressing rocks into the face of its too-small head. It has two eyes and half the curve of a smile, making it look like it's smirking instead of actually smiling.

Dean catches Cas' hand before he can ruin the image. "Leave it like that. I like it."

Cas appraises the incomplete face through narrowed eyes, then nods. "Very well. Will you add the arms? I have to go inside to get a few things."

"Yeah, alright," Dean agrees, stepping around him to be in a better position to install the arms. He adds over his shoulder, “Try not to track too much snow inside when you go in,” but Cas wordlessly continues crunching his way through the hard-packed snow back to the bunker, leaving Dean unsure if he was heard or not. Conveniently, he can’t find it in himself to care either way.

Giving arms to a snowman is easier said than done, Dean learns. The torso snow is tightly compacted to maintain the structural integrity of the entire body, and trying to stab pieces of wood through its core threatens to split it in half. So instead of forcing the sticks into place and potentially ruining his and Cas’ hard work, he starts carefully carving out places for the stick-arms to protrude from.

The chosen method takes Dean a lot longer than it maybe should have, but his timing lines up well with Cas’, who is just returning as Dean steps back to admire his handiwork. Once Dean has judged the arms to be even with one another, he shoots Cas a grin. “So. What do you think?”

“He looks wonderful,” Cas says with a smile of his own. Whatever he has retrieved from the bunker is tucked behind his back, out of Dean’s sight. Cas must see Dean’s questioning stare, because he continues almost slyly, “Do you mind if I finish him?”

Dean waves his hand in the direction of the snowman. “By all means.”

Cas steps in close to Dean and kisses him lightly on the lips, then once on each of his temples. Dean preens under the attention, but Cas denies him when he leans in to try to deepen the touches. “Promise not to make fun of me?” he asks softly, the words ghosting across Dean’s skin.

Dean huffs a laugh. “Promise. Want me to close my eyes, too?”

He means it teasingly, but Cas nods, leaving Dean no choice but to begrudgingly play along. He can only listen as Cas goes back to their snowman to add his final, mysterious touches. After what feels like an eternity in the biting cold, Cas returns his gloved hands to Dean’s. “You can look.”

Dean has to blink a number of times to readjust to the blinding white light that reflects off of the snow, but once he can see clearly, he knows that prolonging the reveal was totally worth it.

A carrot has been added to the snowman’s face, and a grey winter hat with ear flaps that Dean recalls picking up for Cas at a thrift store the previous year is carefully perched atop the head. The only other article on the snowman is a familiar blue tie, perfectly knotted in the space between the overlarge torso and the head.

Overall, the accessories are absolutely perfect, and Dean snorts in amusement. Cas frowns, clearly expecting to be teased for bringing out his old tie, but Dean only steps up to the snowman and adjusts the way the tie lays against the snow-body, twisting it around backwards so that the underside is exposed.

When Dean turns to grin at Cas, the other man gives him a flat look. “Really?”

Dean laughs. “Come on, babe, you had to have known that was coming.”

“Maybe,” Cas relents. He glances between Dean and the snowman, smiling fondly. Before he can say anything more, though, a harsh shiver wracks his body. He looks surprised by it, which Dean finds endlessly adorable.

“Come on,” Dean says, throwing his arm around Cas’ jacket-puffy shoulders and leading him back toward the bunker door. “We can come back out later, but I think right now we could both use a warm shower and some hot chocolate, don’t you agree?”

At first Cas looks hesitant to return indoors just yet, but at Dean’s suggestions, he visibly perks up. “A shower would be nice,” he says with a grin that’s less than innocent. And then, as if his mind wasn’t just running through possibilities of shower sex, he asks, “We have marshmallows, right? For our hot chocolate?”

“All the marshmallows you want, babe.”

Cas looks so happy he could burst. “Perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr!](http://thursdays-fallen-angel.tumblr.com)


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